In the Winter Light
by ManonLeChat
Summary: My collection of Katara x Zuko drabbles, vignettes, and oneshots written for the Zutara100 community on LiveJournal. All genres. I strive to keep everyone in character. New drabble added, theme: Truth
1. Beginnings

_Welcome to my first foray into Avatar: The Last Airbender fanfic! This will be my collection place for drabbles written for the Zutara100 community on Live Journal (link is in my bio). The plan is to write a hundred Zuko x Katara drabbles based upon the hundred themes listed at the community. I'm not sure which will take longer: me completing the challenge or Season Three finally airing... (I, at least, have nine drafts set to go!)  
_

_ Thank you for reading. Your input is always greatly appreciated.  
_

* * *

**#001 - Beginnings**  
(May 2007; G) 

That night, after he had finally collapsed upon a bed in the former Earth King's palace, his thoughts had raced so hotly that at first he wondered if his fever had returned. He shifted back and forth on his pillow, wavering between sleep and wakefulness, determination and doubt.

_I betrayed Uncle. Uncle betrayed me._

_I am my father's loyal son. Father doesn't care._

_Azula always lies. Azula promised me._

_I have chosen._

He touched his scar. The skin was thick and stiff, ridged and familiar. _Her fingers had been soft..._

He angrily pushed the thought away.

* * *

Grief had struck them dumb. 

Resting on Appa's giant furry head and sheltering Aang in her arms, Katara didn't need to turn her head to know that the others were still awake. She listened to the sound of the Avatar's raspy breath and the surrounding, streaming wind.

Feelings pushed and pulled like salt currents beneath her steady calm. She was relieved—that they had escaped, that Aang had lived; she was afraid—of the new and suddenly uncertain future. There was sorrow when she thought of Iroh. And anger when she thought of his nephew.

_Zuko._

Who she thought had changed.

Who had spoken the words _I'm sorry._

It was a relief to find, once more, a target at which she could direct her fear and hurt. Zuko was not what he appeared. He was a terrible person. He was the enemy.

_He was tall._

It surprised and unsettled her to think such a thing. Aang shifted and she quickly forgot, lifting her chin into the night sky.


	2. Comfort

**#033 – Comfort**

(June 2007; PG)

Like many girls, Katara had daydreamed about her wedding many times.

She imagined that her future husband would be strong, with sinewy arms, brown skin and blue eyes. Maybe he would be a warrior like her father. He would definitely _not_ be a sexist slob. He would be kind and gentle and—most of all—he would appreciate her.

She had never, even at her most fanciful, imagined that he would be a prince of the Fire Nation.

Katara peeked at the man standing next to her, dressed in red and holding her hand; took in his pale skin, his smooth hair pinned into a topknot. Zuko's expression was stern and serious as he focused on the scene through the archway before them. Inside the great icy hall waited fire benders and friends from all four nations, her father, brother, and her entire tribe; within a few moments she would walk together with him before them all and, not long after that, they would be married.

As recently as an hour ago, she had been eager and excited for this day. She was no longer the girl who had flown away from the South Pole on an epic adventure; she was no longer the flustered young woman, a few months later, disturbed to realize that there was an enemy no longer treating her quite like an enemy and—even worse—she didn't want him to. She was old enough now to be married; old enough to know that she _really_ wanted to be alone with him, without GranGran's watchful chaperoning or Sokka's infuriating, arch expressions. Old enough to understand commitment and that after this day he would be her _husband_ and she would be his _wife_ and one day she might even have this man's (not "this man's," _Zuko's_) children.

Katara suddenly, desperately, felt young; frightened. She wanted her mother. Tears spilled down her cheek and she hastily wiped them away.

"Are you okay?" Zuko was looking at her now, his eyes wide with concern, a trace of panic in his voice.

"I'm scared."

"Me too," he said, closing his eyes for a heartbeat.

He squeezed her hand.


	3. Ashes

_THIS, boys and girls, is why you should give up smoking!_

* * *

**#081 – Ashes**

(June 2007; G)

Each had just saved the other's life; each had nearly been killed doing it. Still panting from the effort, staring into one another's eyes, suddenly everything seemed to click into place and it no longer even mattered that they were soaking wet and standing in front of everyone.

Zuko cautiously placed his hands on her waist; Katara timidly brushed a wet lock of his hair away from his face. They closed their eyes, he bent his head, she lifted hers —

They kissed.

Katara pulled back almost immediately.

"What is it?" he asked, his arms still around her.

"Nothing," she answered hesitantly.

"What's the matter?"

"It's just... your breath. You taste like ashes." Her nose wrinkled.

It took Zuko several full moments to respond.

"Well, you taste like peasant!"

Katara's hands balled into fists.

"What did you just say? Why you selfish, stuck-up jerk!"

"Self-righteous, rustic, waterbending—" he struggled for a word "—_girl_!"

"YAHHHH!" screamed Katara, attacking with all river water she could bend.

"UNNNHH!" shouted Zuko, forming the largest fireball he had yet mustered.

There was crashing, whooshing, and a lot of steam suddenly in the air.

Sokka managed to shut his jaw. "Should we do something?" he asked.

Toph snorted.

Battle cries and angry grunts, followed by more whooshing and explosions.

"Nope," replied Aang, blissfully smug.


	4. Future

_Perfect (one hundred words) drabble._

* * *

**#008 – Future**  
(June 2007; G) 

Katara felt two unseen hands clasp her wrists behind her back.

"I'm looking for someone," whispered a menacing voice above her ear.

She turned her head defiantly in the opposite direction and said nothing.

"Tell me where he is!" the voice insisted. The pressure on her wrists increased just slightly.

"Go jump in the river!" she answered.

From under their bed, there was a muffled giggle.

Zuko smirked triumphantly. He kissed his wife's cheek; his gold eyes dancing.

"AH-HA!" he roared, dropping to the ground and flipping up the bedclothes.

The excited shrieks of a child's laughter filled the room.


	5. Love

_A bit longer than a drabble, this oneshot is dedicated to the lovely and talented __**leian**__, who remarked that she would like to read a triangle fanfic. It's Zutara – but there's some Kataang in there, too (let's hear it for all forms of love). The title may refer to any or each of the characters' actions, I think. I hope that you enjoy!_

* * *

_**The Greatest Love**_  
**#016 - Love**  
(June 2007; PG) 

_"Zuko... I won't do anything that might hurt Aang. It would tear our group apart."_

_One moment they had been laughing together then she had stumbled and his arm had shot out to steady hers and they both suddenly went still and his hand stayed there, resting on top of her forearm, and he had been on the verge of saying things that had been in the backs of their minds for weeks but never spoken—_

_She looked at him sadly and he turned away bitterly, not wanting her pity and too angry to give her his._

He didn't know why the memory of this night came back to him now, at this of all moments. The night over a week ago and after which they'd barely spoken to one another. But it flashed through his mind, even as he watched Azula snarl and smile with spite, her eyes focused on the waterbender, a bolt of blue lightning issuing from her fingers before the airbender's attack could blow her against the palace wall.

Zuko took a deep breath and reached out, spinning Katara behind him and out of the path of the blast with his left hand, releasing her as he lifted his right.

Absorbing the strike through his fingers, he felt the current shuttle along his rigid limb, his _chi_ choppy instead of flowing, he bent it upward—

And knew that he had failed; had let the lightning pass too close to his heart. The charge seared muscle with unimaginable agony. His mouth contorted in a silent scream, and yet he held fast, willing the lightning to travel up his other arm, away from Katara and their companions.

He watched it strike the opposite wall, shoulders sagging, his eyes already beginning to dim. The structure crumbled, trapping Azula beneath the rubble.

_Death._ He thought. _Now I die._

He collapsed.

Katara broke the weight of his fall, letting his body pull hers with him to the ground.

"Zuko!" she cried, her eyes large and white.

She crouched at his side and pressed her bending water against his chest, her horror growing as she realized the extent of the damage, far beyond her ability to heal.

She tried anyway.

"Zuko, please don't—

"Please don't die. Please don't!"

Tears began to run down her cheeks as she coaxed and massaged his ruined heart, hearing each breath pass more shallow and strained.

"Don't die—

"I care. I care about you," she repeated dumbly.

Words had never sounded more inadequate or hopeless.

He gasped and exhaled—a long raspy sigh. His chest went still.

"No..." Katara whispered, then screamed.

She redoubled her efforts, the water swirling and luminous beneath her hands as she frantically moved them across his torso, trying to patch muscle that would not heal, to manipulate blood already growing sluggish.

Aang stood with Sokka and Toph and watched in silence.

She was bent over the body of his rival in _everything_, including herself. He studied Katara's tear-streaked face, listened to her hoarse sobs, and felt his own heart breaking.

This, surely, was asking too much. To save the person who once had hunted them mercilessly across the continents. Who had betrayed them once before—

Who had taken the one thing he loved more than anyone or anything else in the world.

And he had known—Oh, he had seen it in her eyes!

_Katara, I love you too much. I can't do this._

He looked at her huddled over Zuko's lifeless body, her own wracked with sorrow. He pictured the Katara who had woken him from the iceberg, her eyes shining with wonder, an icy wind rustling the fur of her hood. He saw her, blushing and happy, her hand lightly touching a necklace of flowers. He saw her face, weary and worn against a cloudy night sky, but brimming with joy and relief as she clutched the empty vial of Spirit Water—

And because he loved her, he knew what he had to do.

_Let her go._ Guru Pathik's words drifted back to him. _Surrender yourself._

_THIS_ was the meaning of detachment—detaching yourself out of love for others. Putting them first. Letting go because he loved.

Aang closed his eyes; the Avatar opened his.

The energy of the universe flowed through him, pouring white.

"Katara, stand back," said Sokka, tugging gently on her shoulders.

"No!"

"Stand back!" he insisted, pulling her up.

She started to fight him, and then she saw Aang.

The Avatar thrust his hand forward, water rippling and swelling around it, radiant over the body of the young firebender. The knowledge of countless lifetimes, the skills of a thousand waterbendering masters and healers, flooded into his consciousness. He moved his palm across the damage, soothing scorched flesh and making new tissue, pulling the blood through veins and arteries.

Zuko's heart constricted, expanded, and began to beat. He choked; his eyes flying open.

He gasped and pulled in air.

Released from her brother's grip, Katara fell to her knees, her face transformed by disbelief and sudden joy.

Zuko turned his head to look at her.

"_You_..." he whispered, his expression exhausted and unreadable.

She smiled at him through fresh tears; lifting his hand, she kissed its fingers and cupped it against her face.

Still holding it there, she raised her head. She gazed into the eyes of the boy standing where the Avatar had stood a moment before, love shining through her tears.

"Thank you," she said, with all her heart.

Aang met her gaze and smiled gently.


	6. Children

_I knew that Iroh would show up sooner or later... _

* * *

**  
**

**#077 – Children**  
(June 2007; G)

"You gave me a lot of trouble over the years, my nephew—sadness, heartache, pain, disappointment, terrible tension headaches—but now, now you have finally redeemed yourself!"

Iroh eagerly accepted the squawking bundle from a proud Katara's arms. He sighed happily.

"I hadn't already?" Zuko asked, incredulous and feeling just a _little_ bit hurt.


	7. Peace

**#083 – Peace**  
(July 2007; PG)

As he stood appraising the new Fire Lord, Hakoda wondered for the third or fourth time if he and his men had walked into a trap.

The Avatar's message had raised more questions than it had provided answers. Apparently, there had been some sort of a battle, and some sort of a coup, and the only thing that seemed perfectly clear was that the previous Fire Lord — Ozai — was no longer alive. And, sure enough, the short heavyset man standing before Hakoda wore the unmistakable emblem of the Fire Nation's headship — a stylized golden flame, set erect on a rough topknot of gray hair. The new Fire Lord's beard was equally grizzled and unkempt and, despite the man's still considerable girth, there was a looseness in the skin of his cheeks that suggested a recent period of hunger and hardship.

Four other firebenders, composing the remainder of the delegation, stood in a semicircle behind him. Three older men, their stiff, upright bearing giving away their military background as much as the insignia on their uniforms, stood to the left of their leader; a thinner figure wearing well-made armor that bore signs of recent scorching stood to his right. Hakoda's keen eyes could tell, even beneath his armor and helmet, that the man was very young, not much older than his own teenaged son. The only one smiling among the assembly was the Fire Lord himself.

"Fire Lord Iroh," Hakoda finally acknowledged with a brief nod, his attention shifting to the man at the center. He kept his greeting civil but to the point.

"You will have to excuse my appearance," Iroh said, his voice open and congenial with—maybe—a subtle touch of wryness. "You see, I only got out of prison a few hours ago. It was not a very agreeable experience, although, I have not had this much extra room in my shirt since I was a man of thirty!"

The new Fire Lord beamed and held out the threadbare and dirty garment several inches past his torso by way of illustration.

Carefully concealing his surprise, Hakoda couldn't help but ask himself again — now for the fifth or sixth time — if this could be a trap. He heard Bato angrily suck air through his teeth behind him and knew without asking that his friend also suspected that they had been toyed with — or worse. But Hakoda had also seen enough of the world to detect an unmistakable toughness beneath the pleasant and humble demeanor; an easy confidence that suggested Iroh was no stranger to authority. It would be unwise to underestimate him.

"The rest of the Water Tribes' and Earth Kingdom's delegation have landed at the dock and will be here shortly," Hakoda answered, ignoring the other man's attempt at humor. He raised an eyebrow. "I must admit that we were very surprised to receive word indicating you wished to surrender."

"Oh, I am not surrendering," Iroh corrected, in the same easy and even tone. The men behind Hakoda reached for their weapons. The firebenders tensed and Hakoda held up his hand to steady his companions.

Iroh continued as if he hadn't noticed.

"I am not surrendering, but as Fire Lord I have ordered all our forces to cease hostilities immediately." His demeanor turned serious and earnestness replaced the humor in his voice. "I want what is best for the Fire Nation — and best for the people of every element. I want an immediate end to this war."

He opened his arms, palms upward, and continued.

"We have all suffered loss and heartache."

Iroh met Hakoda's eye, and for a moment there the younger man saw a flash of sadness, memories of an old grief.

Hakoda was unmoved. He, too, understood the meaning of grief.

"I humbly beg forgiveness for the wrongs my people have committed against yours." Iroh clasped his hands together and pressed them against his chest. Raising his head, a plea evident just beneath the surface of his words, he finished— "together, we must embark upon the path to peace."

Dull pain tugged at Hakoda's heart. He pictured the whiteness of his wife's smile, felt the softness of her hair in his fingers. He closed his eyes, allowing the anger within him to crest, break and subside. He remembered the sound of her gentle laughter, and finally nodded, opening his eyes to meet those of the Fire Lord.

"As you say, there has been much loss and suffering," he said sadly. "It will not be a simple thing for any of our peoples to forget, or to forgive. This is a hard path we undertake—peace will not be easy."

Iroh nodded respectfully. His shoulders sagged a little and he seemed suddenly older, more worn. From behind him, Hakoda heard the rest of his coalition's benders and representatives begin to approach.

"Zuko!" a voice shouted.

"Katara!"

Hakoda barely had time to process, or to recognize the blur that was his own daughter until she was running past him and practically leaping into the arms of the young firebender standing at Iroh's right, who had thrown off his helmet and was lifting her and spinning her around before she could get both arms around his neck, pulling him down into a kiss.

His eyes still wide in their sockets, Hakoda felt an arm fall across his shoulders with a sturdy embrace.

"Maybe, it won't be as hard as we think," said Iroh quietly, the hint of a smile on his lips.


	8. Siblings

_Found this short vignette sitting on the hard drive. Written this summer before I'd seen Season Three; any spoilers are coincidental and Katara is a touch OOC. I also recently posted another Zutara-ish one-shot, "Something in Common", that is not part of this collection but may be found in my list of published stories. Thank you for reading! (And feedback is love!) _

* * *

**#053 - Siblings  
**(August/September 2007; revised March 2008; G) 

Sokka became the second-to-the-last to begin trusting Zuko, much to Katara's tight-lipped displeasure.

"Man, I never thought I'd say this, but, after that—after saving our skins and finding us a delicious and meat-filled meal—Zuko... you are like family!"

The Fire Nation's former crown prince was caught completely off guard as Sokka—mouth, left arm, and right hand stuffed full of stolen roast pork-mutton—pulled him into a fierce, teary-eyed hug.

Katara still refused to trust the firebender, in spite of—or perhaps because of—another emotion that had begun to creep into the edges of her awareness, an emotion she knew instinctually was far more dangerous. She wanted to be near him; and found herself avoiding him. She was peevish and cross in his presence, but followed every morning, from the corner of her eye, each of his movements as he carefully instructed Aang in firebending. She resented the seriousness with which he did his tasks, coupling a resolve that had always been there with a new patience he seemed to have found. She tried not to imagine that there was a reason they found themselves alone in the same places: she practicing her waterbending by the river as he silently washed out his shirt to dry under the rising mid-afternoon sun; the way he'd stay awake in the evening after the others had gone to sleep, standing just outside the flickering glow of the fire and wordlessly watching the summer meteors, while she used waterbending again to clean their dinner things.

Still, Zuko had never betrayed anything except polite disinterestedness in her, and she clung fast to that last assurance as her brother let down his guard and another protection fell.

"You wouldn't say that if you knew my family," Zuko answered, disentangling himself from Sokka's grateful arms. His voice was gruff, but there was a pink, pleased tinge that colored his cheeks.

"Though they probably don't consider me family anymore," he continued, more to himself it seemed. It sounded bitter and regretful, and Katara wondered who it was he thought of—the sister and father who would execute him if he was captured tomorrow, or the uncle he had been forced to leave behind.

An uncomfortable pause followed. Zuko looked embarrassed and irritated with himself. He collected Aang's rice bowl and deposited it with the other empty dishes.

"You can think of us as your new family," Aang offered, breaking the silence.

"Yeah, we'll be like your brothers," Toph said, punching Aang and Sokka on the arms. Sokka winced and choked down a mouthful of meat.

"That's right! And think of Katara as your sister," her brother said, recovering partially and gesturing in Katara's direction.

Zuko glanced at her and—

An almost imperceptible hesitation that Katara recognized because her breath, too, had caught in her throat—

"Right. My sister," Zuko repeated, shrugging and laughing weakly.

He was a lousy liar.

Zuko wouldn't look at her now.

And Katara felt the blood throbbing in her chest and knew that she was lost; she was undone. Her heart twisted with both thrill and anguish because now, gazing at Aang's untroubled, serene face, she knew without a doubt that heartbreak and grief were coming for them, as swift and sure as the morning sun.


	9. Blanket

**#042 – Blanket**

(March 2008; PG)

"I used to play in this cave when I was younger. I'm so happy you came out here to visit it with me." Katara grinned and wrapped both arms around Zuko's middle.

This afternoon excursion was one of those things he was still willing to do for her, despite the frostbite he had suffered on the second day of his visit to the South Pole, despite two weeks of relentless and daily ribbing from Sokka, despite the nasty intestinal reaction he had discovered to tiger-seal blubber, despite the fact that her relatives never _ever_ seemed to give them a moment's privacy alone together. Katara couldn't help but admire his shivering, single-minded determination to keep from losing his temper.

"Yes, Katara, it's a beautiful cave," he answered through chattering teeth, peering inside and giving it a cursory, approving glance. "I'm so happy that you shared it with me." He kissed her cheek and took her hand. "Now," he said with considerable enthusiasm, "let's get back to your village."

Visibly upbeat by the prospect, he turned back in the direction they'd trekked.

"Wait, look at the sky!" Katara said, digging her heels into the snow and yanking him back. "I can't believe it's gotten so late! We'll never make it back to the village before nightfall. We'll have to spend the night here."

Zuko looked horrified.

"But it's _cold_ out here."

"Well, we can't travel at night, so we're just going to have to make the best of it," she answered with firm finality and cheer.

"I guess I can start a fire," he said, doubtfully eyeing the limiting kindling material in their two excursion packs.

"That's perfect. You do that, while I lay out dinner."

"You brought dinner?"

"Oh, you know," she said, blushing. "Just in case."

Katara ignored his surprise and turned around, busying herself with laying out a home-made, seal-free, dinner for two. She sprinkled fireflakes on top. She pinched her cheeks, bit her lips, and ran her fingers through the hair about her face.

Smiling to herself, she turned back and found Zuko huddled miserably next to a small crackling fire and mouth of the cave. Katara turned to the pack next to him and began to root around.

"Zuko," she asked, with a growing, dreadful suspicion. "What did you do with the blanket that I brought?"

"I burned it," he answered. He blew steam into his hands and rubbed them together.

"You WHAT?" she yelped, staring with despair at the crackling, flaming heap.

"I burned it!" he answered again. "You only brought one! How did you expect us both to stay warm if I didn't build the fire high enough?!"

Katara glared at him.

Zuko thought.

"Oh," he said, sheepishly. "_Oh..._"


	10. Two of a Kind

**#005 – Two of a Kind**

(March 2008; G)

"What kind of a waterbender doesn't know how to swim?"

"I'm from the South Pole, remember? Ice and snow? Freezing temperatures? It's not exactly the type of ocean you want to dive right into." Katara spat salt water out of her mouth and struggled to float.

"No fair using bending!" Zuko warned.

"I am NOT—" _Spurt. Gasp._ "USING—" _ Spurt. _ "BENDING."

He steadied her torso and tilted her sideways.

"Kick your legs."

Katara dunked her head under the waves and kicked her legs furiously.

Zuko grinned and ducked, rearing his head away from the sudden splashing.

"You're enjoying this, aren't you?" she accused him as she emerged and righted herself, her eyes stinging and blurry. She blinked, coughed, and sputtered on more seawater.

"Here. Let's just try drifting for a while." He crossed his arms over her middle and pulled her against his chest. "Like this. Just relax."

_Relax._

She crossed her arms over his and tried. It did feel nice like this—drifting up and down with the waves—surrounded on all sides by her element. She licked the salt off her lips and focused on the sensation of water, its gentle, giving resistance. It felt good to circle her foot through it, good to sigh against the drone and murmur of the surf, good to think of the horizon stretching on and on, miles and miles, out to sea.

It felt good to be here, being held by a firebender.

"Zuko?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you know how to make a fire without firebending?"

"Nope." He gripped her tighter. "Will you show me?"

"Once we get back to the beach."

"Are you in a hurry?"

"Not at all," she answered, closing her eyes.

Through her lids, the Fire Nation's summer sun shone warm and red.


	11. Light

_100 words written for the Summer 2009 "Perfect Drabble" Contest at katara_zuko [dot] livejournal [dot] com. Katara/Zuko forever!_

* * *

**#073 Light  
**(_June 2009; G_)

Romantic transitions are difficult enough when your nose isn't chafed and frozen. Zuko was desperate.

"I'm glad you saw this before you left," Katara whispered, lying by his side in the snow beneath the Southern Lights. It _was_ the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen: sheers of pulsing, icy light.

"Katara—

_Do you still love Aang? Am I just a friend? Could we plan an activ—No, that was idiotic—_

Would you marry me?"

Horror struck him. "I meant—_not now_! Someday. Would you consider it? After dating. Me."

She exhaled. "Yes. Someday."

"Great."

His brain caught up, reeled:

"Katara!"


	12. Truth

_100 words written for the Summer 2009 "Perfect Drabble" Contest at katara_zuko [dot] livejournal [dot] com_

* * *

**#018 Truth  
**(_June 2009; G_)

"Fire Lord Zuko was NOT my boyfriend!"

The rumor had persisted for three years, exploding when the sovereign's ex-girlfriend married an Earthbending peasant from Omashu.

"I can't believe I'm still answering these questions," Katara fumed, blue eyes stormy as the hapless fruit vendor inched away.

"They say I grind metal with my teeth." Toph shrugged and bit into her peach. "Why is the idea repulsive?"

"Because. _Zuko._ Zuko and me." Katara laughed. "Can you imagine anything more ridiculous?"

Toph chewed silently.

"It would never work."

Toph swallowed.

"Right?" asked the waterbender in a small, troubled voice.

Toph took another bite.


End file.
